Storms Rising
by Garbage and City Lights
Summary: I have yet another evil cutie--Jack Merridew! ^_~ This is Lord of the Flies, right after the end. I just love the concept of an evil English choir boy with a black cloak! ..heh. If I get.. say, 5 reviews, I'll write another part. So R&R, please!


Jack sat in silence, a newly scrubbed and brushed boy, freckled forehead pressed against the cold glass of the window. His unruly red hair had been neatly cut and combed, his teeth brushed in an effort to rid them of the grime. The British luxury ship moved slowly, quietly, sliding through dark waters towards home.  
  
_Home_.  
  
He'd been given a seperate state room from the others. Jack wasn't entirely sure whether it was for his personal comfort or the safety of the other boys. The officers had seen the wounds, the fire, heard of the dead ones. Somehow known he was responsible. He watched the Navy men whisper to the ship captain and knew that they were warning him. Warning him about Jack. Now they were going home. But what _was _home? The nuclear war had destroyed whatever was left of home. And he had destroyed what was left of _them_. A frustrated sigh left his lips as he shifted. The new clothes were uncomfortable, _he _was uncomfortable, and he wasn't ready to go back to England. Jack wasn't ready, and they were going to make him--  
  
The door creaked slowly open, making him jump. It was Ralph, fair hair still damp from the bath. Jack immediately cringed. He had been avoiding him, trying to put off what was only going to happen sooner or later. He'd been dreading the inevitable. This was the boy he had tried to kill.  
  
Ralph leaned against the doorframe, looking emotionless._ Nice poker face,_ thought Jack grimly. There was a long period of silence, gray eyes meeting blue, before one of them finally spoke.  
"Why?" The one word uttered by Ralph was enough to make him wince again.  
_No. I must be strong._  
"Why what?" Jack asked quietly, fidgeting in his seat.  
"What did you let those things happen?" Ralph's cold voice made him shiver and glance out the window.  
"I didn't _let _them happen," he muttered. "They just... happened." A pound of fist against door caused Jack's head to jerk up.  
"Oh, come off it!" snapped Ralph. "_You _were chief, and it's your fault that--"  
"No!" Jack jumped to his feet.  
"Simon and Piggy are--"  
"It's every bit your fault as it is mine!" Ralph's fists clenched angrily, but he gritted his teeth and calmed.  
"Perhaps. But it was _your _tribe--Roger was _your _friend--_your _bloody dance--"  
"It was that damned island! We were hungry and scared and sick and--" Jack felt his dignity slipping, but he went on. "No one knew--"  
"_Everyone_ knew, Jack!" Ralph's voice was a harsh shout, a cry of pent-up frustration and rage. "Everyone knew that it was wrong and _no one cared!"_ The logic struck Jack fully, bringing down another brick of defense. He scrambled for words.  
"But--"  
"Simon and Piggy are _dead_, Jack! _Dead!_ They're not coming back! You had to know--"  
"But I didn't!" The taller boy's eyes filled slowly with hot tears of humiliation and anger. "Do you really think I wanted those two to die? Do you?! I didn't!" A tight knot of guilt had settled in his chest, making it hard for Jack to talk. "I didn't want any of this to happen! I really didn't! But once it started--once I couldn't turn back--" The words hung heavy in the air. Jack was suddenly aware of the tears leaking from his eyes. He turned to the window to hide his weakness. Ralph hesitated, then spoke again, softly.  
"Then why were you going to kill me?" Swallowing the awful lump in his throat, he said quietly,  
"I wasn't." Jack dragged a freckled hand across his eyes and struggled to regain composure. "It was Roger's idea. 'We'll find him, we'll kill him, we'll do just like the pig, a warning'--"  
"Then why did you hunt me?"  
"I was chief." With a bit of a dry smirk, he turned to face Ralph. "You know what it was like being chief. If you don't tell them what they want to hear, do what they want you to do, you lose their respect." The mirthless smile left his pale face as he twisted his hands worriedly. "But really--I wouldn't have--" Ralph's face was still solid as stone, betraying no emotions. Jack let the words trail off as he stared at the other boy, waiting for a sign of forgiveness. None came.  
  
"I don't know about that," Ralph whispered. Jack blinked in surprise, but said nothing as the shorter boy went on. "Had we been stopped, I'm sure all of us would say we wouldn't have killed Simon. But we did, Jack." His voice dropped again, now barely more than a breathing of words. "And I think you might've killed me." Jack opened his mouth to protest, but found that nothing came out. Ralph ran a hand through his blonde hair and sighed, eyes flicking back up to the red-haired boy. "The boat is supposed to hit port in an hour or so. We'll get off there and we'll never see each other again. I don't want you apologizing. I don't want some last ditch effort to make yourself feel better. I want you to walk off that port, onto the dock, and never look back. In short, I never want to see you again." Jack blinked, then nodded. Thoughts bombarded him almost immediately. _Did I expect him to give me a hug and say everything was all right? 'No, Jack, everything's fine. What's that? You tried to kill me? Bah, that's behind us now. Bygones, you know.' _He forced a dry smile and laughed quietly.  
"Yeah. I understand." Ralph gave a short jerk of the head that was supposed to pass for a nod.  
"Good." He turned on his heel and began out the door. "Goodbye, Jack Merridew." A pang of guilt hit Jack.  
"Ralph, wait!" The boy turned.  
"What?" His fingers twisted nervously again as light blue eyes dropped to the floor.  
"I _am _sorry," he whispered. Ralph was silent, then he spoke quietly.  
"Perhaps." Then the door shut with a click and Jack was alone with his thoughts.


End file.
